


Claustrophobia

by meredithleon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredithleon/pseuds/meredithleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt 'claustrophobia' at terror_scifi, so centres around Dean's coping with his fear after escaping from his coffin in season four.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claustrophobia

Title: Claustrophobia  
Author: meredithleon  
Characters: Dean Winchester with mentions of Sam  
Rating: Pg-13  
Words: 579  
Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 1, rest general  
A/N: Written for the prompt "Claustrophobia" at terror_scifi's Promptfest. 

 

 

It’s Dean’s most recurring nightmare… 

He’s trapped in a wooden box, its walls so close to his body that he can feel his skin brush at the slightest movement. It’s dark, and even when he opens his eyes wide and squints, he can’t see anything. He panics, has he gone blind? But… no, no that’s not possible. Yes, he’s in a box and he has to get out of it, then he’ll be able to see again. And breathe. How can he forget to breathe?! But the first breath he takes, it’s so stale and thick and… God! He hadn’t noticed that before! But he was busy trying to figure out where the hell he is, of course he hadn’t noticed. He holds stays still for a while, then inhales, exhales. Breathes out in a sigh. He’s a feeling this isn’t going to last much longer and eventually he’ll suffocate and die of lack of oxygen. He kicks the sides of the box, pushes at the roof, hits everywhere he can reach. He feels great relief when the top wood gives and some dirt falls into his face. Dirt? Where the hell is he? He kicks out with renewed vigor, fueled by absolute terror and fright. His palms splinter and his fingers hurt but he continues on and pounds and pounds until finally, finally the wood comes off and he’s buried in mud.

It’s not easy to get out of the mud either and Dean will have to thrash and use whatever strength he has left to dig out. 

Dean always wakes up just before he can, and just as the last reserves of oxygen are exhausted. He knows this isn’t how it happened. He knows he made it. And he made it through hell too. But it’s not enough to make his erratic heartbeat get back to normal, and it’s not enough to make the phantom feel of satin and wood fade from his skin. And it’s definitely not enough to make him breath for a few seconds. He curls into himself wherever he is, tells himself that it’s okay and he’s okay and everything’s fine. He’s got an angel watching over him after all. 

He falls back to sleep, trusting that when he’ll wake up, it’ll be to fresh air and wide open space. 

He mostly avoids closed spaces, avoids getting trapped and suffocated, he even tries to avoid being strangulated after that one incident when a monster had him by his neck and he choked and flashed back to that time in the coffin (he now knows it’s a coffin) and Sam had to save him. But it’s a job hazard that he can’t always evade such a situation, and Sam is too big to get inside narrow vents and tunnels. He’s big too, just not that… big, so he creeps inside with his fingers crossed and tries to get the job done quick.

Sam has a word for his fear, he calls it chronic claustrophobia, it’s too tongue twisting so Dean doesn’t attempt to speak it loud, besides, his brother has a name for everything so it doesn’t even matter.

What matters is that this phobia of his isn’t gonna slow him down, isn’t gonna cripple him, he won’t let it. He’s meant to be a hunter, a damn good one at that and if he has to face his fear and face the undeniable truths they signify, he’ll do it. He’s strong like that.


End file.
